


Hare and Hound

by st_ivalice



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I've reached a new low
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10157318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_ivalice/pseuds/st_ivalice
Summary: In Sahara Square, the Camels and their casinos were matched only by the Servals and their races. The turf war in the desert threatens to spill into the city as racers are becoming collateral damage. Judy and Nick cover as a racing team to investigate but the world of racing and betting means it’s all in or nothing.





	

He was scorching; his ears weren't big enough, couldn't cool him down fast, and that damn sun beat down harder than an elephant in Little Rodentia. Nick panted, sweat trickling down his neck and matting his fur. No sane mammal would _choose_ to live in the Sahara District, but even then, as he squinted through binoculars at the horizon, he admitted he had chosen to take on this case. He was _some kind of crazy_ , but here he was, out in the middle of the desert waiting for a drop.

Just last week, he had been impressed at how organized the intel was for this, but then somewhere in the setup, someone had screwed up and miscalculated the entrance fee for the races, which, out here, was not in dollars. If pelts and rugs were valued in Tundratown next district over, then gems were under the table market in Sahara Square, especially in the Canyons. And they weren’t going to get very far in this investigation if they couldn’t enter the Desert Run.

As annoying as it was, it was clever, really. The race attracted skilled and celebrity racers. With jewels and precious stones, the entrance fee was also the grand prize in a winner takes all game. Standard buy-in was a camel’s hump, which was the equivalent of ten pounds of jewels, roughly eight thousand dollars, but the Servals were smart and didn’t cap off the amount or ever clarify. Jewel trade was always fluctuating and racers had to account for it by adjusting their fees. It was considered good sport to enter with at least two pounds more, another way for racers to one up each other and build tension and incentive. Nick had to agree it made for a good show. In their case, it worked in their favor, because it was not unusual for late entries, as contestants checked the fee market and sought to increase their buy-in, regularly flaunting their entries.

Despite the heat, he wondered how upset Bogo was after learning about the mishap and the price, because jewels ain’t cheap and if they were honest, the ZPD was probably never going to see these assets again. Yeah, he had faith in Judy’s ability to hold herself in the race, but win? There were racers out here who’ve been winning for years. He spent a lifetime honing his skills calculating odds and the numbers weren’t favorable, but he’d never tell her that.

He glanced down at the vehicle in the shade and Judy giving it a look over. Her ratchet bounced off the roll cage and fell into the sand. Nick swung the binoculars over to it. She picked it up and resumed her work on the desert racer. Twenty minutes ago, he thought she was joking when she wanted to take a look at it, but then she was all rolled up sleeves and ass in the air as she bent over to fix something in the engine. Turns out Carrots had some expertise fixing tractors on the farm.

She stretched to reach the nut she had been trying to tighten, and he _knew_ she was stretching, because _DeeDee_ , as was her cover name, wore crop tops under her racing jacket and as she leaned, all of her assets were on generous display. Any normal day, any normal outfit, he had a mind to never stare, because she was Carrots, she was _Judy_ ; his partner, his best friend, but if was honest—and he was _very_ honest with himself these days— he had come to terms with his _appreciation_ of her. Sometimes he glanced or teased, and he was never sure whose benefit that was for, but now, in this heat, away from the comforts and _boundaries_ of the precinct and the city, he was sure it was for both of them.

Her jacket draped over the body of the racer, and the curve of her torso was in full view. Her tail perked and Nick was suddenly very aware of how parched his mouth was.

"See anything?" She called up.

"A few things."

One of her ears swung around in question before she picked her head up and turned to look at him but he was already focused on the horizon.

Yeah, that benefit was for both of them, because maybe he did want something else with Judy, but what they had was already the best thing he could ask for. Being a cop was good, being her partner was even better, and they were _very good_ at this cop thing.

He was still reeling from it sometimes how they made detective in two years. Surprised, even, that Bogo put them undercover. Even while on the beat, it was becoming a challenge for them to take assignments that were undercover; they were being made too quickly, too easily and it was interfering with their ability to do good work. The price for being highly visible and out of ZPD normal mold. But, he was a pusher. He read people quickly, was a city vet with connections and street smarts, among _other_ fine qualities. And Judy, she was persistent almost to a fault, but eager, quick, open-minded, and determined to see something finished done right. Together, they were unorthodox and unconventional, but they produced results, good ones, and Bogo knew a resource when he had one. In this case two. Occasionally, he gave them priority cases, other times, paired them off with other cops and areas of expertise; he was grooming them for something big.

When Detective Bulloch passed from natural causes, his partner, Bearton, figured it was probably best he grieve in retirement, opening up a couple spots on the team. Bogo convinced them to take the exams and after they passed, attached them to senior officers to expand their skills and techniques. This was their first solo case as partners _and_ detectives, probably the best gig they could ask for, and he didn’t want to screw this up. It was easier, _safer,_ to tease, glance, joke—no strings attached—because that was how banter had always been for them since the beginning. He took pleasure how it confused officers and perps. Were they? Weren’t they?

 _Besides_ , Nick smiled, _it was their trademark_. Why change it up now?

“You hear that?” Judy called up again. She always heard things before he did, just as his scenting and night vision surpassed hers.

“Not yet, Carrots, but I see it.” He spotted two trails of dust riding towards a rock formation. Hard to tell from this distance, even with the binoculars, but he thought it might have been Delgato and Fangmeyer. The handoff was under the pretense of bike trouble. He and Judy would “assist” them and receive the gems.

“Let’s go.”

She closed the hood of the engine and he carefully jumped off the rocks down to her. Judy put her gear back on, slipping her goggles over her eyes. “Try and keep up,” she tossed over her shoulder.

He grinned, putting his own goggles on and pulling his bandanna over his muzzle. She slipped into the racer and started it up, while he mounted his motorcycle, following her dusty wake.

Their contacts were about a quarter of a mile away and several times, Judy took her racer over terrain that was rough, almost too much for a bike, but he cut across and pulled ahead of her, making sure he flashed his grin at her.

They reached their contacts at the same time, and Nick was right about who they were. Fangmeyer was resting in the shade of a rock while Delgato was giving his bike a tune up. It was the lion who was responsible for much of the intel and even the training for this case. His family was into racing, and it was his personal hobby, but he couldn’t be on the ground with them during the case because he had too many connections— friends and relatives, in the Canyons and the racing world.

It was Judy who hopped out first and greeted them, a paw on her hip. “You fellas need some help?” she teased.

Nick smiled to himself. She was always so theatric.

Fangmeyer stood up, smiling too. “From the _Dream Team_? To what do we owe the honor?”

Nick snorted. Yeah they owed a lot. “Bogo’s never gonna live down how much this costs.”

Delgato paused and raised his eyebrows. “You should have seen his face. Pretty sure you could fry an egg off it.”

“Pretty sure you could fry an egg off all our heads right now.”

“He found out in the break room. Broke a cup, the handle off a filing cabinet, and bent a metal desk.”

“Eesh,” Judy grimaced. “Who told him?”

“Clawhauser.”

“Poor Ben.”

“Rhinowitz is making it up to him.”

Nick grimaced as well. No doubt Bogo gave him an earful about the gems. “So,” he said, eager to get out of the sun, “You got our rocks?”

Delgato nodded at Fangmeyer and they removed the seats of their bikes, pulling out two attache cases. “You will not believe the kind of threats Bogo made as he gave us clearance,” he said, then added, “Of course, we’re probably the best qualified to ride and carry these as well too, but let’s just say he reprinted us twice, and threatened our careers and nonexistent firstborn cubs.”

Fangmeyer laughed. “And he mapped my stripes and put them in the database.”

Nick knew better than to check them out here, and he had to trust that they had the right amount. If this were a real drop, he’d have had them count it in front of him and brought a jeweler to verify authenticity, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Delgato seemed to catch his uncertainty and assured him. “I oversaw the prep and counted it all myself, Wilde. And got in touch with some of my cousins about the current fees. This will get you in _and_ make you guys look good.”

Nick took the case while Judy took the other. “You’re a life saver, Delgato.”

“And you watch for Hopps, alright?” Fangmeyer added. “Anything happens to her, we’ll go after you.”

“I love you too, Fangmeyer.”

Judy laughed as she secured the cases in her racer. “Thanks, guys. I really wish you could be here with us.”

Delgato smiled. “You’ll do great, Hopps. Watch your right turns, though, you’re still taking them too hard.”

Judy scrunched her nose. “I know. I keep falling back into the habit whenever he rides on my left.”

“Well,” he said pointedly at Nick, “He’s still rigid as a board and shouldn’t be there in the first place. You’re her spotter.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Don’t _chastise_. You spent all your time training her.”

“Jealous?”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Delgato shrugged. “I _would_ like to win this month’s Dream Team betting pool.”

Judy rolled her eyes this time. “That’s still going?”

Nick shrugged too. “It’s good money, Carrots. You know we can milk this right?”

She tilted her chin up. “Or I could win this race.”

Delgato patted her on the back. “That’s the spirit, Hopps. First Rabbit cop, first Rabbit Desert Run winner.”

“Didn’t Dusty Harris win once?” Fangmeyer asked.

“Harris was a _hare_ ,” Delgato and Judy said together.

Both he and Fangmeyer shared a look. Maybe they were both too attached to this.

“ _Well_ ,” he diverted, heading back to his motorcycle. “We should scurry on out of here. This sun is bad for my complexion.”

“Yep,” Judy chimed. “We’ll see you guys.”

“You guys take care,” Delgato said. “I mean it. The desert is unforgiving and so are these racers.”

“Will do, chief,” Nick saluted, starting up the bike.

“Loosen up on those handlebars, Wilde.”

Nick revved it up to show his acknowledgment. He rode up to Judy.

“Go back the same way?” she said.

“Sounds good,” he yelled. “Best not to take any chances.”

She nodded, but then she broke into that grin of hers when things went her way. “Race ya back!”

Dirt from her racer kicked up around him as she took off and Nick gritted his teeth, kicking into gear and taking off after her, losing Delgato and Fangmeyer’s roars of laughter in the wind.


End file.
